In the Land of Men and Monsters
by AdventuresinMonsterLand
Summary: (MAJOR REWRITES GOING ON!) Frankie Stein, Skeltia Calaveras, Rochelle Goyle, and Jackson Jekyll weave together to tell the story of the revolution of Monsterkind as they fight against the prejudice and war struck by Man. For friendship, for family, for love.
1. Preface

**_Preface  
_**

_Frankie Stein_

There's been a recent outbreak of violence against Monsters.

Everyday, we are falling.

From the crowded streets of China, to the bright lights of Paris, and the bustling roads of Los Angeles and New York, our numbers are dwindling.

We have become the hunted, and soon, we will meet out extinction.

But there is hope and the promise of revolution, and we as Monsters must decide if we will continue to be oppressed, or choose to fight back.


	2. Lightning

FRANKIE STEIN

I let the current run through my fingers, feeling the electricity jolt in my veins, giving the steady beat of my heart sharp pangs. I feel it in my bones, trembling in my stomach, traveling down my legs and back up my arms. My blood scorches like fire inside of me.

Then, quick as a flash, lightning splits from my fingertips and flies towards the target, gyrating in the air like a snake, and meets dead in the center. The canvas catches fire, devouring the easel in a show of red and orange flames.

I try to catch my breath, but the air is thin.

Satisfaction and glee flower in my chest; I did it, I influenced the lightning.

The sound of the fire crackles as I watch the easel burn, and then there's applause from behind me.

Jackson bounds towards me, his blue eyes beaming behind his thick-framed glasses.

"That was wicked, Frankie!" he says, smiling.

"Positively _electric_," Clawdeen winks.

Her wavy hair is loose around her, falling down her shoulders and stopping at her waist. Her ears twitch.

"Thanks," I say, pulling the fly hairs away from my face.

"How long have you been practicing that?" Jackson asks.

I shrug. "A few weeks. It started with a couple of sparks, and now, well, you saw."

Clawdeen checks her make up in her compact and snaps it shut.

"Do your parents know?" she says.

I shake my head.

"Why not?"

"I don't know, it just hasn't come up. I don't want to make a big deal out of this. It's kind of scary, don't you think?"

"Frankie, once a month, I forget who I am and become something else entirely. That's scary. What you can do…that's called talent. You have something special."

Sighing, I grab my purse off the bench.

"I suppose. Anyways, enough talk, we have to go to school."

When we get to campus, the air is buzzing with rumors. Everyone is huddled in groups, whispering and gasping.

"What's going on?" I ask, turning to Clawdeen.

"Check the Ghostly Gossip, Spectra's sure to have posted about this by now," she says.

I pull my iCoffin out of my bag and the screen comes to life. I click the GG App and open it.

BREAKING NEWS, GHOULS! MONSTER HIGH IS GOING TO BECOME HOME TO FOREIGN EXCHANGE STUDENTS! RUMOR IS FOUR NEW STUDENTS ARE COMING FROM PARIS, CHINA, AND SPAIN. KEEP YOUR EYES PEELED, I PROMISE MINE WILL BE.

- THE GHOSTLY GOSSIP

"New students? From out of the country?" I say.

"We need some new meat around me," Clawdeen says.

We walk through the front doors and dodge students as they crowd through the halls.

"I wonder who they are," Jackson chirps.

"We'll just have to keep checking the Ghostly Gossip," I say.


	3. Bones

**- Sorry this took so long to update. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you guys think! -**

**Skelita Calaveras**

My bones hurt.

Every part of me hurts, every part of me is on fire.

I hear the snaps before I feel them, and then my body is overcome with blind, splintering pain. The soft tendons that keep me together, that make me one, seem to simmer. I tremble, letting my body slowly – agonizingly – recover.

I can't hear the screaming anymore, but I can smell the fire and see the sky fill with smoke. The moon is lost behind gray ash.

"Skelita!"

The voice sounds strained and distant, but familiar and comforting.

"Skelita!"

It's stronger and closer now, and I recognize it as my mother's.

My mother!

I turn my head towards the sound, my eyes widening and searching for her. There's fire and darkness and shadows and my mother comes in and out of the light. She's running, clutching her chest, fear streaking her face. Her loose hair flies everywhere, like a cape, whipping and snapping.

She seems miles away and the pain in my bones starts burning and suddenly everything feels like fire and I am fire, I am the screaming I hear and I am the fear constricting in my chest and they are me, we are one, struggling to stay in control of my body.

It fades away for a moment before rushing back, hitting me like an avalanche, everywhere and unexpected.

I feel bones in my hair, fingers brushing against my forehead.

"Mija, Skelita," I hear my mom whisper.

I can't speak, the pain is numbing.

I think of my mother's voice, her singing, the way she pulls me into her arms to keep me safe, safe from the danger that's invaded my home, my city.

The human attacks started suddenly and caught like wildfire, killing everything in its path, running rampant through the major cities of Mexico.

Today, Mexico City became the newest city to join the attacks on Monsters. The Monster-Human relations had always been strong and peaceful, but now everything has changed, people have changed, hearts have gone cold and turned black.

I didn't see the man that pushed me, I only felt his fingers push against my spine, then, I fell. When I hit the cement, I felt the pain everywhere as my bones snapped from impact.

"Mija, we have to go," she says, slipping her arms under my arms, hoisting me to my feet.

The pain ebbs away and I can stand. My dark hair is wet and knotted; my dress is soaked from the pavement, the thin fabric of my overskirt is torn and ruined.

"Papa? Where is he?" I ask, leaning against her.

"He's with your brother, looking for you," she says.

"Are they okay? Are they hurt? Were you hurt?"

She shakes her head. "No, no, we're fine, pequena."

We turn into an alleyway; my mother touches a backdoor handle and the metal rusts with sudden age. She snaps it and the door open.

"In here," she says, leading me into the darkness.

My eyes are tired and strained in the shadows. I can't see anything, not even my hand in front of my face.

Lights flicker on and my eyes shut involuntarily from the stabbing pain.

"Skelita!"

My eyes adjust and I see my father running towards me, smiling, relieved. My brother and grandmother follow behind him and we embrace.

Wrapped in their skeletal arms, I feel only their love. I forget about the devastation behind the door and find comfort in my family, in their warmth.

"I thought they took you away, mija," my dad says, holding me against his chest.

"I'm here, Papa, I'm here," I whisper.

My mother holds my hand and I look back at her. Her wide eyes are frightened and I suddenly, I know why.

I feel the coldness rattling through me, the premonition takes me like a wave gobbling the sand. I can't see anything, only feel the sickly sensation in every bone, in every tendon.

Something's coming.

Something big, something...monstrous.

"Mama?" I croak. "What does it mean?"

She says nothing at first, only blinks as the remaining images fade away.

"Mama?"

"It means," she starts, "that Mexico is longer a safe place for Monsters. It means, we will have to leave our home, our life here. Immediately."


	4. Stone

**I couldn't stop writing after Skelita's chapter, so here's chapter three. :) Please enjoy. **_  
_

_Rochelle Goyle_

People call my home the City of Lights, the City of Romance, of Love, Passion, and Art; a stone city of beauty, of rich history that defines Paris, transforming it to what it is today.

But, I see no beauty now, only destruction, only fire.

Fire is everywhere, killing everything.

Smoke tangles in the air, becoming it, filling my lungs and burning them.

Before today, I had never seen such hate, such disdain for Monsterkind. I watch in horror atop my family's rooftop as humans attack monsters; my fingers twitch as I fight my natural instinct to protect. My mother and father rush to find others like us, other gargoyles in danger.

My brother, Pierre, stands next to me, eyes fixed ahead.

"We cannot simply stand here and watch, Pierre," I say.

"We do as Maman and Pere said; we wait," he says.

I see him flinch; Pierre is strong and protective, like me, and watching the destruction of our beautiful city is too much for him. He sighs, running his hand over his head, the sound of his stone flesh like a boulder rolling over cement.

"We do as Maman and Pere said," he repeat.

"Do nothing? Watch our friends die?" I strain, grasping his impossibly hard arm.

He tenses under my hand.

"Please, Pierre, we must help them. We must fight. What are we if not guardians of the weak?" I ask, forcing him to look at me.

He winces.

Moonlight trickles from behind the clouds, or maybe it's smoke, I can't tell. Pierre's eyes narrow, the color of wild roses boring into mine.

"Please," I whisper. _"Please."_

The air explodes and we both fall back; Pierre instinctively closes his arms around me. The hot gusts blow across my face, loosening the thick braids in my hair. The sound of the bomb echoes through the stone city, reverberating in my chest and legs.

The screams are unbearable; they fill my head with pain and desperation and helplessness, all these foreign emotions weaving into me with every beat of my heart.

"Pierre!" I say, clutching for him in the moonlit darkness.

But he's gone, running towards the edge of the cathedral.

He turns back for a minute, shouting, "Stay here, Rochelle! Stay here!"

He leaps, his wings stretching and catching the air.

"NON!"

Without hesitation, I fly.

There's madness and frenzy on the streets; I look for Pierre, pushing aside street carts and rubble.

"There's one! A monster!"

A shiver carves through my spine and I turn to look for the speaker.

A tall man aims a gun at me and fires; the bullet ricochets off my iron bracelet and his eyes widen with disbelief.

Cold trickles in my heart; he shot at me, he tried to kill me. This _stranger, _this _human _aimed a weapon at me to destroy me.

Rage fuses into my bones and it's all I feel.

"Kill it!" someone screams at the man.

"Do not try it, human," I spit.

The man freezes, fear gripping him to his spot. He blinks and comes to, screaming and running towards me, raising the rifle over his head.

I catch him by the throat, tightening my hold around the soft, weak flesh and lifting him off his feet. We lock eyes and a tear runs down the side of his face, sliding against my wrist.

I hate this man. I hate him for his cruelty and his ignorance and his stupidity. I hate him for the violence he has caused, for the violence his kind has inflicted on the world, on my people; not just the Gargoyles, but all monsters.

But even with all my rage, I cannot kill him, I will not.

I throw him to the ground; he feebly crawls away.

"Do not let me see your face again, for I will not hesitate to cause you harm next time," I lie.

He whimpers and runs into the fire-lined streets.

Hundreds of bodies run about me, some screaming in terror, others with conviction. Humans and monsters are unrecognizable in the dark light.

What has happened to my city?

Where has the beauty gone?

What will become of us?

My mind is jumbled and loud; I can't stop the pounding in my head; I can't catch my breath in the ash filled air.

"Rochelle!"

Pierre is holding someone, a young human boy with a ruined, broken body. Pierre's voice is ragged and sad and I suddenly know who the boy is.

Beau is my brother's boyfriend, a human teenager that changed my brother for the better; he touched his stone heart and made it soft and compassionate.

Pierre clings desperately to Beau.

"I told you to wait," he snaps, his voice straining.

"I could not let you go out alone," I say.

He shakes his head and he heaves for air.

"Beau is dead," he sobs. "Beau is dead."

I gasp. "Non!"

Everything stops; every detail around me is fragmented and lost, shattered like Pierre's heart. The pieces don't fit together anymore.

"He is gone...he is dead..."

Darkness comes over me like cold water, drowning me.

Dead.

This kind, quiet, delicate human boy is dead. The love of my brother's life is gone. His bright green eyes are closed and sightless. They will never see the sun rise again, or stare into Pierre's.

"He fought so hard," Pierre cries. "He was so brave."

Pierre caresses his soft face, brushing away the dirt and grime from his cheeks.

I can't think. I don't know what to say.

With this boy's death, I have lost my city. When the innocent fall, there is no longer hope, there is no longer order and peace.

I struggle to my feet.

"We must leave, Pierre. Now."


	5. Guide

Frankie Stein

The fog settles and consumes everything. I'm utterly blind in the gray; I try to find my footing along the hillside, to steady myself into the earth, but the blank nothingness is disorienting. I grind my heels into the dirt and watch the mist thicken.

Which way is south, north, west, east? I can't tell.

My head is spinning and I close my eyes to ground myself, to reel my wandering thoughts back in. It takes me a moment to realize why my lungs ache; I'm running into the abyss, ambling through the hills instinctively. My bolts spark, catching the thick moisture in the air.

I don't know where I'm running, but I don't stop, I can't.

The forest is dense and green and cold; I can't see the sky through the treetops, just the gray tentacles of fog creeping in between the leaves. I listen to the sounds the wood makes, like deep breaths rushing in my ears, filling my chest a hollow, foreboding sensation. I don't know what to call the tingling burn trickling down my spine – fear? Anticipation?

Maybe it's the adrenaline, but my body begins to feel overwhelmed as it tries to reject the fear. I feel the skin around the seams of my stitches tug, giving me goosebumps and turning my stomach.

_Keep it together, Frankie, _I think, shaking my head.

Peaking out from the bushes is a fallen branch; the bark is rough and rubs uncomfortably against my skin when I pick it up, but having it in my hands settles the painful twists in the pit of my stomach.

It's quiet and the air is still; the forest is otherworldly and uninviting; I can't shake the sense to flee that bangs in the recesses of my skull.

So I run, out of the forest, away from the treeline, deeper into the fog. I squint my eyes, searching for a flicker of light or maybe a road.

That's when I hear it, the low, distant hum of voices; but they aren't human voices, they're too dark, too rich, too cold. They echo restlessly against the hills, catching the breeze and caressing my cheek. I don't know what they are, but I know enough to be frightened.

I kick my heels into the ground and make my way around the hills, towards smoother ground. If I can find a road, I should be alright, I should be able to navigate my way out of this labyrinth of fog.

The voices are behind me now, closer, at my heels, behind every step I take. I can't suppress the scream that breaks from my lips.

_Run faster, just a little bit more and you're safe. Don't stop. Keep running. Breathe, deep breaths. In, out, in, out. Steady. Control yourself. _

I try to listen to the rhythm of my thoughts, but they're too fast and they fade away too quickly. I can't remember what I was saying, my mind is blank.

It takes me only a second the register the cold, slimy grip on my ankle.

I scream.

The lights flicker and the simulation ends.

I'm back at school, at Monster High; I've failed my Survival Class.

All around me, my classmates awake from their comatose states, removing the goggles that attach to the main computers. Clawdeen brushes her hair away from her face and smiles.

"I killed it," she declares happily.

I sigh.

"It killed me," I groan.

"Where were you?" she asks. "I was somewhere in Mexico I think; maybe it was just a desert."

"The moors," I say, throwing my legs over the table.

"I didn't make it either," Jackson confesses, pulling on his sweater-vest. His hair is disheveled and I wonder if he was thrashing through the simulation.

"Piece of pie," Abbey cheers, towering above us.

I smile. She still hasn't gotten the hang of our colloquialisms.

"I don't see the point of this stupid course," Cleo announces, straightening herself. "It's not like I'm going to be searching for danger and it's not like I go anywhere without the Guards."

"Babe," Deuce says, "you're missing the whole point."

She waves him away.

"Well, ladies, I do believe it is lunch time; don't want to catch the rush."

She takes Deuce's hand and they saunter out of the classroom, the pack of students following close behind them, but not too close, for fear of Cleo's wrath.

Spectra comes through the door, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Ghouls! I've just seen them! The new students! Going into Headmistress Bloodgood's office!" she says, floating back out the door.

"Let's go catch a peek!" Clawdeen says.

"I do not understand this obsession with new students," Abbey says, walking beside me. "They are just regular monsters."

"Maybe they're half-human like me!" Jackson chirps.

"It's just a novelty, Abbey," I explain. "New faces, new clothes, new everything."

She shrugs.

I see the gargoyles first, tall and silent. The girl is slight and beautiful; her pink hair reaches past her hips and her great eyes look like carnations; the boy is bald, but is physically intimidating; his eyes are unflinching and the passionate color of roses.

Abbey inclines her head, her pale hair glistening like ice.

Clawdeen raises an eyebrow to their fashion; it's very Parisian and sophisticated. Her golden eyes examine them head to toe.

The two girls behind them are something to behold; the first girl is fierce with sharp, almond eyes and long green hair pulled back with chopsticks. Her skin is covered in scales; she's a dragon; her tail flickers around her impulsively. She's dressed in a standard kimono, though it's styled with hard rips and edges, making it appear youthful and high fashion. She's gorgeous, but something about the harshness in her eyes gives me chills.

Lastly, the girl keeping to herself is a monster I've never seen before, an Eskeleto. Her bones are ivory and gold bracelets dangle from her wrists; she wears a short colorful skirt in the spirit of Day of the Dead, festive and alive; her dark hair is streaked with orange, off setting the tone of her large, russet eyes.

Although they're all different, they cling to each other, finding company in their anonymity.

The speakers crackle and Headmistress Bloodgood's voice comes through them, "Will Frankie Stein please report to the main office."

A shiver runs through my body.

Me?

Clawdeen looks at me.

"Go, Frankie, I'll save you a spot at the table."

With her encouragement, I wrestle my way through the crowd, cautiously following behind the new students; I feel my sparks ache and burn with my nerves.

What did I do?

They reach the Headmistress's office and open the door, filing in neatly; I wait a second and take the handle, feeling a shock spark up my arm. My ankles pop and I tumble through the door, barley breaking my fall with my hands and knees. I feel my face glowing with heat.

When I finally look away from the ornate tile floor, five pairs of eyes are inspecting me curiously.

"Ah, Frankie," Headmistress Bloodgood says, perching her head onto her desk. "Thank you for coming in. I'd like you to meet our new students. You'll be their guide for next couple of weeks and I expect you to treat them with the highest of spirits that Monster High has to offer."

I freeze.

Guide? Me?

They all stare at me; the dragon girl's eyes narrow and the gargoyles whisper quietly to each other in French.

Oh. My. Ghoul.

_**Sorry about the wait! Hope you enjoy; let me know what you think. **_


	6. Split

_****This came a little out of left field, and I didn't know I was going to be writing from Jackson's POV so soon. But, here you go. Two days in row! Woot!*****_

_Jackson Jekyll_

I can feel him in the back of my head, the annoying voice clinging to my brain, trying to escape. He moves along my body, struggling to take control of it.

_**Our body**_, he says.

I clench my jaw.

_No. Go away. Leave me alone. _

_**I'm not going anywhere. It's my turn to play. **_

_No, it's not. This is my body._

I can feel his anger swell inside me. Holt curses loudly and I curl my fingers into my fists. I can't let him win, I won't. My stomach twists and presses against my spine. My heart sputters and I want nothing more than to scream, just shout and hit something.

_Please, just go away_, I beg, the weak sound of my thoughts hinting at my fragile state of mind.

_**Sorry, kid, but I didn't pick this life either. Nothing I can do about it.**_

I sigh, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. I want to cry, but I can't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he's getting to me, well, _gotten_ to me. My tongue wrestles in my mouth and I sense him trying to speak. I bite down hard, shivering with the pain.

"Jackson, are you alright?"

Lagoona blinks down at me, holding her swim bag close to her side. In the pale sunlight, she looks ethereal, her hair falling like delicate waves down her back.

"Fine, I'm fine," I say, too quickly, with no conviction in my voice.

Holt snorts.

"You sure, mate? You don't look well," she says, leaning to meet my eyes. She touches her cold hand to my forehead. "You don't feel hot, but we should go to the nurse just in case."

"No, really, Lagoona, I feel fine," I jump up. "Great, actually!"

I know she knows I'm lying. I can tell by the way she raises an eyebrow.

"Honestly," I sigh.

She purses her lips, unconvinced.

"If you say so. Well, lunch is gonna be over in a few minutes, care to join me? I'm dying to see the new kids with Frankie," she says, walking ahead of me.

Oh yeah. I'd forgotten that Frankie had been called to the office, that was thirty minutes ago. She should be back by now.

I skip behind Lagoona, swiping Holt's voice away as if it were a swarm of flies.

_**You can't keep me in here forever, **_he snarls.

I breathe in, trying to relax.

_Watch me._

The cafeteria is fuller than usual; everyone wants to get a look at the new students. Frankie is sitting in the back, new kids in tow, with Abbey, Clawdeen, Draculaura, and Abbey.

"Drop dead _gorgeous_," I hear Scarah say, walking past me and Lagoona.

"Absolutely," Moana agrees.

When we make it to the table, Frankie bolts up and smiles.

"Where have you guys been?" she asks.

I look at Lagoona, hoping she won't tell them how she found me curled up in a ball against a tree, muttering to myself.

"I had a long swim practice and I bumped into Jackson here on my way from the pool," she says. "Studying, as usual."

_**Tsk, tsk, got your friends lying for you, what's next?**_

_Shut. Up. This is none of your business._

I smile and take a seat near the end.

"Jackson, Lagoona, I'd like you to meet Skelita, she came from the Monster Academia in Mexico!" Frankie says, gesturing to the skeleton girl across from her.

She looks up and smiles at me, the intricate designs on her face are breathtaking.

"Hello," she says, her voice soft like a bell,

"This is Jinafire," Frankie continues, "came from the Chinese Monster Preparatory Academy for Girls."

The dragon girl is severe, and her cold eyes are uninviting. She nods her head curtly and continues to pick at her food.

Holt whistles something offensive in my head and straighten myself into my chair.

"Finally, these are Rochelle and Pierre Goyle, from the Monster Institute in Paris."

I look up and my body tenses.

The girl called Rochelle is small and dainty with curved, stone wings perched on her back. They flicker softly and I wonder how the stone can move so fluidly. She runs her fingers through her hair and she bows her head.

"Bonjour," she whispers.

I nod and blink, feeling a cold hand trickle down my spine.

The boy, Pierre, looks away from his food and he tenses, like me. His hands curl and he hides them under the table. His crimson eyes blink me in, and I take in every feature. The hard surfaces of his face are perfect and smooth and when he clenches his jaw, my stomach explodes with butterflies. I've never experienced this, this heat that burns up my thoughts and consumes my words. I can't think or speak, I don't know how.

His mouth twitches and he breathes, "Bonjour."

Lagoona waves, "Hey, mates. How are you liking Monster High so far?"

They all shrug awkwardly and I try to extinguish the fire blazing in my chest.

I pull together my thoughts and breathe.

_**Whoa, calm down, I'm burning up in here. **_

I curse at him, willing him to go away.

He chuckles and dwindles back into my brain.

I've never felt this uneasiness, this burning sensation that trembles in my legs. My heart sputters and I force myself to not clutch at my chest. My thoughts are catching fire, every word illuminating red and orange. I've forgotten how to breathe.

"Jackson? Jackson, are you alright?"

Frankie is standing next to me, shaking me out of my stupor.

I look up, but I only see blinking lights.

My skin tingles and I go black.

_**My turn. **_


	7. Transformation

_******I know it's a little short, but here's the dividing point between Jackson and Holt. I don't foresee any chapters told explicitly from his POV, this is just to give you a sense what I imagine Jackson goes through when he transforms. *******_

_****_Jackson Jekyll/**Holt Hyde**

My body starts splitting, my mind dividing and ripping until the pain is all I feel. My stomach wrenches and sputters and I feel sick; everything is spinning and the air is suddenly too thin, too sparse, and I can't breathe. I'm trapped in breathless lungs and my cells starting imploding.

**_Let me out!_**

_No!_

As much as I fight, I know I'm losing.

**Jackson heaves and I see my way out, the small shaft out light leading me towards freedom, away from the perpetual boredom he calls life. I tear my way out and the closer I get, the more staggering the pain becomes. I feel it now, feel it in every vein and muscles as I force myself through his pores.**

I try to think of something else, but the pain is too much.

I think of roses, but their violent color hurls me deeper into the change; I think of the boy called Pierre, of his face, something to keep me grounded to reality.

**I claw through him, flinching when the pain takes us both like a wave. I choke on my saliva, feeling it trickle into my lungs. The soft sting of discomfort makes me wince.**

_Get out, get out, get out!_

_**No way, man, it's my turn. You've been in control for too long. **_

_Please, I can't take it. I can't handle it. The pain...it's too much. I can't breathe._

Our **minds lock and our** thoughts weave in and **out of each** other's and for a moment, **we are one**. Our words taste familiar and singular, this is we and we are together, **yet we still fight for** our escape.

It's a race now; I run even though my body hurts, even if every step feels like I'm stomping on glass. I have to end this pain, it's too much and I'm drowning in it.

**Jackson's fading; he's too weak, too sensitive, and the transformation has already taken its toll on his mind. He's a dim flickering light now, all I have to do is blow him out, let him rest inside. **

** Our DNA sparks like **fire and we scream** as the flames take us, devouring us **completely**. **

** I open my eyes and the sunlight traces over my face. I can feel the warmth of the breeze and I feel my heart boom with relief and unfathomable happiness.**

** I'm free. **


End file.
